A New Variable
by DragonAmante
Summary: What if a mysterious stranger began appearing in the 6th book? How would everything change? Begins as part of the 6th book and contains extracts, but will deviate slowly from the original plot. HP/DM, HP/OC, DM/OC, HP/OC/DM Possible BDSM, not too graphic.
1. 1: the First Encounter

**A far better story than my first, if I do say so myself. Of course, I'm also older and hopefully wiser, so this is a good thing.**

**Please remember that I do not own anyone in this except the stranger, and make no $$$ out of this :( - JK Rowling owns the characters and half my initial plot...**

[A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light grey eyes narrowed.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Draco Malfoy.] p110, HP and the Half-Blood Prince.

"Honestly, Draco – at least _pretend_ to have manners." A man appeared in the mirror, depicted in reverse behind Ron, and managing to be clearly seen despite the red-head's extreme height. His eyes were a piercing ice-blue; the rest of him seemed to be entirely black and white, from his pale visage to his patent leather shoes. Malfoy shifted uncomfortably, and his expression turned completely from arrogant smirk to half-terrified and apologetic so quickly that Harry felt he should really turn around and face the stranger in case of attack.

Ron and Hermione had already turned as Harry forced his eyes to meet those of the stranger. Standing so close, it was necessary for him to tilt his head far enough that it was uncomfortable, and Harry found himself wishing the man would back away so that he wouldn't feel like a child looking up at an adult. Surprisingly, the closer scrutiny did have one advantage – the man was a lot younger than he looked. Taking away his severe black robes and cold expression it was evident that he could not be more than two yearas older than they were; therefore, it was likely he was only just out of school himself. Yet Malfoy had seemed scared of him. Malfoy was hardly the type to be worried about the actions of his peers, so obviously, this was something important.

"Um, I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met. I'm Hermione Granger, and these are my friends – Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." Surprisingly, the man made no motion of acknowledgment at Harry's name. If anything, he looked bored. He made no move to answer her in kind – it was as though he hadn't heard her.

"Draco? Do they fit?" Narcissa Malfoy rounded the rack and took in the scene before her with a sneer: but Harry couldn't help but notice that it faltered slightly when she took in the imposing stranger. She turned to her son, and they began an entirely mundane discussion of how well the robes fit in comparison to their worth. The stranger suddenly ignored them. He spun round abruptly, striding out of Madam Malkin's so quickly it was as though he had received a letter telling him he was late for something. Harry, Ron and Hermione could only stare after him in bewilderment.

"Actually, I don't think I want these."

"Well yes, after seeing the filth that shop here..." Malfoy hauled the robes over his head, flinging them to the ground and storming out with his mother close behind, making sure to [bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.

"Well _really_!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed the dust.

She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron and Harry's new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard's dress robes instead of witch's, and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with the air of being glad to see the back of them.

"Got ev'rything?" asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.] p112

"Just about," said Harry. "But did you see that man leaving the shop? I've never seen him before, but he looked like he knew the Malfoy's."

"Nah, bu' he's no' the firs' new character t' be seen wanderin' Diagon Alley Harry." Despite Hagrid's continued assurances that it was nothing to worry about, Harry had thoughts of the mysterious man in his head all day, even when confronted with Fred and George's new shop.

[Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone...] p118 A snatched out and grabbed his arm, a second hand clamping over his mouth before he could cry out. He found himself in an alcove, facing the man from Madam Malkin's. The hand removed itself from his mouth.

"Look, I'm sorry I tried to ditch you, but Mother's already worried and I-" firm lips descended on his, cutting off the excuses. Draco melted, and the man pulled back.

"I know what you're trying to do. I won't try to stop you – I'll help. But don't you _ever_ lie to me again." Draco Malfoy could only nod helplessly as he was redirected towards Knockturn Alley, an invisible companion (or two...) haunting his steps. And although the stranger could see Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they had no idea he was there.

**Thanks for reading! Please review - I doubt I'll write more than a few chapters without them, as reviews are the food of writers! So, you know... please feed me?**


	2. 2: Letter

**I realise I've barely posted the first chapter, but I was on a roll. Please don't let the quotations put you off - there'll be less of them as i deviate further from JK's plot. I'm writing this as I read, so you might want to do the same. Just as an idea - I don't think it's 100% necessary to do this, but I could be wrong. Thanks for reading!**

["Maybe he's broken his Hand of Glory," said Ron vaguely, as he attempted to straighten his broomstick's bent tail twigs. "Remember that shrivelled-up arm Malfoy had?"

"But what about when he said 'Don't forget to keep _that_ one safe'?" asked Harry for the umpteenth time. "That sounded to me like Borgin's got another one of the objects, and Malfoy wants both."

"You reckon?" said Ron, now trying to scrape some dirt off his broom handle.

"Yeah, I do," said Harry. When neither Ron nor Hermione answered, he said, "Malfoy's father's in Azkaban. Don't you think Malfoy'd like revenge?] p124-5 Besides, what was with that guy in Madam Malkin's? Do you reckon he's a Death Eater, keeping an eye on Malfoy while his father's locked up?" Ron and Hermione looked doubtful, but Harry still felt that the man was close to Malfoy somehow. He hadn't looked like a relative – Narcissa Malfoy was hardly likely to be scared of her own relatives, even if her son was. No, there was more to this, and Harry needed to know the truth. Even if his best friends thought he was raving mad. Yet even if the man was a mystery, Malfoy wasn't, he could be figured out. Did he give something away?...

["He's a Death Eater," said Harry slowly. "He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!"] p125

_AN: Here it may be useful to read the interlude – I am writing as I read to ensure everything flows, but for the sake of not simply re-writing the book I have to miss bits out. Thanks_ : )

[There was a whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were closing.] p130 But as he made his way onto the train, Harry looked back at the crowd of parents... and saw the stranger from Diagon Alley. The man saw him to; he locked eyes until Harry had to turn and get onto the train properly. When Harry finally got into a compartment and tried to look back, the man was gone.

Meanwhile, pretending to pay attention in the prefects meeting, Draco Malfoy clenched his fist tightly around a plain white envelope.

After spending several minutes in his compartment putting up with his 'friends', Draco gave up on curbing his curiosity. The letter in his fist burned, and he abruptly left for the luggage cart. He was so preoccupied that he didn't even notice that Blaise had been missing. The cart door slammed behind him, and after a quick series of wards he sat on a suitcase and began to read.

_Dearest Draco,_

_Naturally, I am concerned about your behaviour of late. It would not do to give the Half-Blood any reason to eliminate you at this delicate stage of proceedings. Please maintain your usual demeanour amongst your schoolfellows – I do not wish to have to rescue from your own mess again._

_JP._

Draco smiled ruefully to himself as the letter burned in his hand.

He was fortunate to make it back to the compartment well before Blaise Zabini and his unwelcome invisible 'friend'.

["_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralysed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonising, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position.] p146

"I saw your ankle, you know. Not one of your finer moments, Potter. Luckily for you, my Master wants you alive. But still... he didn't say _unharmed_..." An evil glint came to his eye, and he stepped forward. [He stamped, hard, on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose break; blood spurted everywhere.

"That's from my father. Now, let's see..." Malfoy dragged the Cloak out from under Harry's immobile body and threw it over him.] p147

"It might take them a while to find you Potter, but be greatful – I'm leaving you your Cloak." Not caring that he stepped on Harry's fingers, Malfoy left the compartment.

It turned out that Harry was lucky – he was quickly found by Tonks. But Malfoy had given him plenty to think about.

For Draco, dinner was nigh unbearable. He did his best to act normal, recounting a rather embellished tale of what had occurred between himself and Potter on the train. It was good enough for his fellow Slytherins, and not one of them commented on the haunted cast to his features. Yet there was one Slytherin who could not be so easily fooled...

**Please review! I'll probably write a chapter tomorrow, but might not post if no-one reads this over the next few days...**


	3. 3: Revolutionary

**Thanks to njferrell for the review!**

**Here's my third chapter in gratitude :)**

As the students left the Great Hall for bed, Severus Snape observed. Something had changed. He could not be certain what it was, exactly, but it definitely involved Draco Malfoy. As Head of Slytherin it was his duty to find out what was going on (it wasn't as though he was nosy or anything...).

Draco fled as soon as he could. His Master had promised to meet him at Hogwarts, but hadn't said where or when. The best he could think of to do was get away from other people – Master was unlikely to show up when there was a crowd of witnesses. His footsteps echoed on the cold stones as he made his way up to the seventh floor. Finally, he made it to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Quickly checking around him and seeing no-one, Draco began to pace past the stone wall opposite, muttering to himself. Before he could finish, a gloved hand appeared out of nowhere. Recognising the black figure, Draco forced himself to remain still and silent. Abruptly, the hand released him, pushing him through the door that had now appeared opposite the tapestry. As he stumbled to the floor, the man reached down and lifted him bodily into the air.

"This was foolish of you, Draco. I thought I told you to act normal? Disappearing like this will only make others suspicious." The deep, rich voice washed over Draco in calm rebuke, and he shivered both from fear and anticipation.

"I only wanted to see you, Master." The man placed him back on his feet, stepping back to appraise the youth before him. Draco was pale, but a blush darkened his cheeks, and he refused to meet the man's gaze. The man sighed.

"You will have to spend the night here with me, then." The words were spoken with an air of menace, but Draco calmed immediately. This was what he was used to.

"Come." The man led him over to the four-post bed that had appeared in the corner, and Draco found himself bound face down, wrists roped to the head board. He smiled, since he knew his Master would not see it – this is what he had wanted.

"I'm going to have to punish you, Draco. This, is really going to hurt."

It was difficult for Draco the next day. Breakfast was a nightmare, as he try to avoid as many questions as he could without seeming too suspicious. The lacerations across his back from the whip made him want to wince everytime something touched his back, and the dull ache he felt whilst walking was agonising sitting down. But these aches and pains were worth the trouble; the pleasures of last night would have horrified many, but Draco knew that his Master was strong and intelligent. He would do whatever was necessary for both himself and Draco, and hang the consequences.

His first class was Defence Against the Dark Arts – with Snape. The Professor kept shooting guarded looks his way, so Draco was careful to avoid showing his pains. Snape would probably know that something was up, but the longer Draco could put off his questions the better for all concerned. His secrets were not the kind to be divulged lightly.

Potions later that afternoon was comparatively easy. The whole lesson was rubbish, according to Draco anyway. But Because Snape wasn't there it was easier to act his part. He scowled at any praise of the Mudblood, only paid attention when he had to, and deliberately became carelessly fast with his potion. Such actions were so blatantly 'Malfoy' that little care had to be taken with details, and he allowed himself a couple of winces as his back was bumped by his over-eager classmates. In deliberately trying to garner favour with Slughorn he was even able to slip some Sopophorous Bean into his pocket un-noticed – it would be used later in a soothing balm he was running out of. Despite the fact that _Potter_ had actually managed a better potion than he had, Draco considered the lesson an over-all win; no-one had any reason to suspect him of anything after that.

Several weeks passed in this manner – Draco keeping secrets he only half-knew himself, his Master visiting late at night whenever he could. But eventually, something happened to give Draco reason to fling himself into the Room of requirement late one evening to ask some very important questions.

"Stan Shunpike? You said you were getting someone into Azkaban, but _Shunpike_? There's no-one more conveniently placed than he was – the Knight Bus!" The man didn't even bother to raise his head from the _Daily Prophet_.

"Draco, how many times must I say this? A pretty boy like yourself doesn't need to worry about these things. However, in answer to your unasked question; we no longer need a man aboard the Knight Bus – the Shrunken Head picks up everything I may need to know." Draco, however, was hardly put at ease.

"Master, students are leaving the school. Their parents are being killed – Hannah Abbott left yesterday because of her mother's death!" The man sat up, his piercing stare boring into Draco's own eyes until he could no longer hold his gaze.

"Trust me, love. The plan is perfect, if a little slow. Our revolution is nearly beginning."

**Yay, no quotes! The timeline is the same though; Stan Shunpike's arrest was reported the day after Hannah Abbott left because her mum died (p208-210)**

**Please review, let me know what's good and what's not - it's the only way I'll improve! Thanks. :)**


	4. 4: the Necklace

**Yay! My internet has worked! Sorry it's taken me a while, but I have several new chapters for you...**

Halfway through October they had their first Hogsmeade weekend. It was a nightmare trying to get out the gates – Filch was getting over-enthusiastic with the Secrecy Sensor. The thought that Ron Weasely voiced was echoed in the minds of several other students; what did it matter if they were taking stuff _out_ of Hogwarts? Draco knew better, as he concealed his Masters latest missive. Taking anything out of Hogwarts was taking it _in_ to Hogsmeade, which was clearly something few people thought of. Actually, considering the near gale-force winds freezing him and his fellow students, if he hadn't had good reason to leave the grounds he would never have bothered at all. The fire in the Slytherin common room had been invitingly warm, and he had departed with great reluctance.

Zonko's was closed, Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks were packed; but neither was Draco's immediate destination. His first stop was the Hogs Head.

"A package for me, Aberforth?" The barman looked up at him from behind the bar and hefted a box up onto it. Non-descript, plain brown, but if anyone could have seen what Draco was feeling as he looked at it they would have been shocked – it was sheer delight in his eyes, although Aberforth could not read it.

"What you were expecting, eh? I take it you heard about Stan?" Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The only one who really seemed to trust him was his Master – the rest insisted upon treating him like a kid. Although, the fact that Master was only a recent graduate from Durmstrang may have had a hand in that.

"Of course I have. Now I'd best be going – work to do." There was no point wasting pleasantries on Aberforth, it only made the old wizard suspicious.

Draco's next stop was an inviting town house on the outskirts of the village. Homely looking but easily part of the background, this was Headquarters of the Revolution. The strong wards seemed almost un-necessary to Draco as he easily by-passed them. No-one really knew about the Revolution yet, so hiding their Headquarters was rather superfluous. But Master had been insistant; he hadn't wanted to take the risk that Dumbledore or Riddle would discover their plans. Draco himself had been shocked enough to discover his Master, let alone the revolution. Yet as he placed the box on the kitchen counter he knew he was grateful – both for his rescue from the awful choice between mass-murder or the fall of the aristocracy, and his Master's... special care. Holding on to such memories made him smirk as he moved over to the message board in the main room. There was only one there for him:

_She will do as you ask without question._

Good – it would make his horrible task that much easier.

The final stage of his visit was the easiest. A student walking into the Three Broomsticks and having a chat with the owner was hardly cause for concern.

"You want me to... give this to a student?"

"Katie Bell – she's to play her part with it. She'll be expecting you, so don't worry about recognising her. Just hand over the package." Rosmerta was clearly wary of him, but Draco paid it no mind. He didn't care what his Master had said or done to her to gain her compliance. This was too important for his cover as a Death Eater and placing a new spy.

"Right, wait in the ladies and hand over the package to Katie Bell. Got it, sir." Draco had to smile at that; he loved to be called 'sir'.

Everything went according to plan. Katie Bell received the necklace from Rosmerta, even managing to walk ahead of Harry, Ron and Hermione on her way back to the castle, providing a perfect audience for her theatrics. The necklace itself passed to Minerva McGonagall, who informed the 'witnesses' that Malfoy had been in detention with her. There was little that could dampen Draco's mood as he rested by the fire after his 'rigorous detention'. His Master would be pleased, and would possibly reward him. This would unfortunately have to wait, as he was currently in London. But the knowledge of a spy in St. Mungo's and the security of his own position were enough for now.

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[Overall it was one of the worst practices they had had all term, though Harry did not feel honesty was the best policy when they were this close to the match.

"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," he said bracingly, and the Chasers and Beaters left the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves.

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Ron in a hollow voice when the door had shut behind Ginny.

"No you didn't," said Harry firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves."] p267 As he walked out of the changing rooms with his best friend however, Harry noticed a tall figure striding across the pitch toward the castle.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you, alright?" Ron seemed too preoccupied with his woes to be overly concerned, so Harry tried to surreptitiously follow the strange figure. It appeared he was rather successful, until the man turned and stared directly into Harry's eyes.

"Yet again, Mr. Potter, you show yourself to be overly curious as to the doings of others." The man's rich voice washed over Harry, and he started as he realised it was the stranger from Diagon Alley. He'd almost forgotten about it all.

"What do you mean, 'again'?" Harry was fairly sure he hadn't seen the man since, so such a comment seemed out of place.

"You're not the only one who can become invisible. I was guarding Draco that day – and I recognised your Cloak." The stranger didn't sound smug; he clearly felt this was perfectly normal. But to Harry it was terrible. Someone could recognise his Cloak while he was under it? That meant that Dumbledore's plan for keeping him safe wasn't nearly as secure as he'd thought. The man noticed that what he had said had disturbed his night-time companion, and smiled at him. The difference was startling. Before, the man had been handsome, if rather aloof; now, he was literally stunning, and Harry almost looked away in shock. But the man moved closer, holding out his hand.

"I have something to show you, if you'll allow it." Although his instincts screamed at him to refuse, Harry took the man's hand and found himself being led to the Room of Requirement.

**Let me know what you think...**


	5. 5: Harry's Discoveries

The Room itself appeared empty of anything except a long wooden table and four chairs, each spaced so that each person would be out of reach of the others.

"Ok, why are we here?" Harry's inquiry went unanswered. The man sat at the head of the table, gesturing that Harry should sit on his left. Taking his seat uneasily, Harry nodded towards the other chairs.

"Are you expecting other visitors?" he asked. The man simply stared straight ahead, and Harry began to feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Master, my apologies. It was difficult to get away from Zabini." Draco Malfoy strode in and took the seat to the man's right as though this were a common occurrence, Harry included. Harry himself could not hide his distrust. He made to leave, but at that moment someone entered who he hadn't been expecting.

"Professor?!" His Head of House barely acknowledged him, instead nodding towards the stranger and taking the remaining chair. Once she was seated, the man rose to his feet (still staring forwards) and began to speak.

"As you are aware, Minerva, everything is proceeding according to plan. Most of our agents are in position, and with yourself as Dumbledore's primary contact, there is little we are unaware of. Miss Bell's placement has been most convenient, and I must thank you for Draco's alibi." At this Harry flew out of his seat in outrage.

"You're _spying_ on Dumbledore! I _knew_ Malfoy was behind that necklace! You-"

"That is enough." For some reason the man's commanding voice silenced Harry instantly. He was clearly someone who disliked interruptions, and Harry realised he needed to tread far more carefully. Obviously these people were against Dumbledore and the Order, although Harry was having difficulty reconciling the Professor McGonagall he knew with the woman conspiring in the Room of Requirement.

"Draco, you need to have a few words with our repairman. It is vital they not complete their work on the cabinet until we are ready.

Now, Harry," he said, finally turning his burning gaze to the boy he'd named, "I rather think we should chat about your... unfortunate inability to keep your nose out of other people's business." Harry rather expected Malfoy to smirk at this, but his face was like marble; elegant and unresponsive. Clearly, this was not the time or place for silly rivalries. Harry shifted in his chair, feeling excruciatingly uncomfortable with the stone faces of his companions.

"If it makes you feel any better, my father was a member of the original Order of the Phoenix; although quite frankly I always considered him to be a prat. Brave, granted, but a prat nevertheless." As he spoke he became all smiles, suddenly friendly and engaging. It was a stark contrast to the unblinking forms beside them. Harry wasn't even sure if Malfoy was _breathing_.

"Who? And why do you think he was a prat?" It was fortunate that Harry hadn't really expected a straight answer, because he didn't get one.

"The Order wish to create a world without Riddle simply by removing him and letting things continue as they are – persecution of former lords and mystics. Most Death Eaters wish for pureblood supremacy, and control over Muggles. We seek neither solution." Harry could only blink. Why was Malfoy here if pureblood supremacy wasn't on the agenda? And how was simply removing Voldemort a bad thing? His questions must have shown on his face, because the man leaned forward to impart a few words in a low whisper:

"It's time for a revolution."

Then Professor McGonagall stood, indicating that Harry should leave with her. She bowed to the stranger, who was once again looking straight ahead and did not acknowledge the gesture. This seemed not to matter – she took Harry's elbow and steered him out the door. Harry stepped out first, nearly walking straight into Ron.

"Sorry Harry, you're the second person I've bumped into along this corridor." Ron still seemed upset about Quidditch, so Harry began a stream of encouraging words, hoping to have a half-decent Keeper for their next match. He didn't feel the need to tell Ron about his strange meeting, particularly since Ron was so unresponsive. He later learned of the row with Ginny, but found it hard to have any sympathy; Ginny was surely old enough to have boyfriends if she wanted, right? Harry was far more concerned about their upcoming game against Malfoy and his Slytherins...


	6. 6: Slughorn's Party

**The last of the chapters I've written over my unwelcome hiatus. I promise I will keep writing, although obviously like anyone else I will sometimes have internet problems. Hope these made up for it!**

Unfortunately the Quidditch match really _did_ provide the perfect cover for Draco and his repairman to have a chat, although he had begged his Master to be allowed to play. What was the point in being Captain if you had to fake an illness and play a replacement? But orders were orders, and at least he'd been able to train up Harper in advance.

It didn't take long for him to reach the Room of Requirement, his guards in place in case anyone wandered away from the game – although this was rather unlikely. Disguising Crabbe and Goyle as girls had been a brilliant idea really (but Master didn't know about it – he would have only sneered). Sometimes Draco felt he ought to rebel against his Master more; he wasn't a bloody girl, he was a _Malfoy_. Then he would remember what his Master could be like when provoked. Even considering the idea made him shudder, and he took a moment to compose himself before entering the room. It certainly wouldn't do for his repairman to see weakness in a superior agent.

His senses were instantly assaulted by the smells of the potion bubbling before him. The Vanishing Cabinet was in one corner, clearly well on its way to being finished. Various instruments lined one wall – the other was hung with weapons the Master had demanded for his use. Draco allowed himself an internal cringe. These weapons were definitely _not_ the kind he would want used on him. These had other, far more terrible uses. As he was staring at a particularly nasty looking device, a head popped up from behind the Cabinet.

Luna Lovegood.

"I had a clone take my hat – no-one will notice that I'm gone. You?" Draco had to smile. Luna's outside persona made her clones un-noticeable in a crowd, with their lack of voice and vacant expressions.

"I'm ill, don't worry. Besides, with the game on, who _would_ notice? Now, the Master commands that you not finish the Cabinet yet, Lovegood. His plan's not ready yet, apparently." Luna simply nodded at him.

"As you say, sir."

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"Lovegood, apparently Potter is still without a date to Slughorn's christmas party. Try to get an invite, would you? I'm getting bored," Draco drawled.

"Of course sir. If you could just hand me that thingummy over there?"

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Luna had her mission, although she wasn't sure why she had to do it. Only Generals saw the Master, after all. But it was proving to be easy. With Harry as desperate to find someone to go with as he was, she only needed to catch him at the right moment. In fact, Hermione's sobbing sounded promising in that regard...

Harry was, at that same moment, looking for Hermione. Her row with Ron was turning nasty, and Harry figured he really ought to make sure she was alright – she'd looked close to tears in Transfiguration. [He finally tracked her down as she emerged from a girls' bathroom on the floor below. She was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Luna. "Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?"

"Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff..." He held out her books.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case. "Thank you, Harry. Well, I'd better get going..." And she hurried off, without giving Harry time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any.

"she's a bit upset," said Luna. "I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley..."

"Yeah, they've had a row," said Harry.

"He says very funny things sometimes, doesn't he?" said Luna, as they set off down the corridor together. "But he can be a bit unkind. I noticed that last year."

"I s'pose," said Harry. Luna was displaying her usual knack of speaking uncomfortable truths; he had never met anyone quite like her. "So have you had a good term?"] p290-291

Before long, Luna had achieved her mission – even if she did use mild Legilimency to hurry up the process.

Luna Lovegood was going to Slughorn's party.

["Harry, m'boy!" boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as Harry and Luna had squeezed in through the door.] p295 Certainly not a good start, though Luna; although she had to admit there were quite a few Revolution agents in the room. Obviously the Master intended for her to meet with one of them, or have them pass something to her. She would have to keep a look out for them.

Before long they managed to escape Slughorn (Harry had spotted Hermione). They made their way over to her with difficulty, and somehow ended up over by Professor Trelawney. She stank of sherry, but this didn't seem to worry Luna in the slightest. This was what she had been waiting for. As the Professor ranted about Firenze, a ring was quietly slipped onto the only ring-less finger of the hand that she'd conveniently placed behind her back. Luna had no way of knowing who had given it to her, but the creature engraved on it told her to give it to Draco – it was a roaring dragon. If it had been for her, it would have borne a small canary. Such symbols were necessary for agents, as they greatly reduced the need for written evidence. She turned her attention back to the conversation just in time to be a part of Harry's unfortunate crisis.

["Harry Potter!" said Professor Trelawney in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.] p298

For Harry, the night was shaping up to be complete hell. Professor Trelawney had managed to attract Slughorn, and, much to Harry's disgust, Professor Snape. The conversation was not going well, with Snape's suspicions about Harry's 'incredible potions ability' beginning to creep across his scowling face. In fact, Malfoy was a welcome diversion. Filch dragged him in, threatening to punish him for being out of bed; but even though he claimed to be gatecrashing, he seemed put out by Slughorn's invitation to remain. Harry found himself wondering whether Malfoy had been headed for the Room of Requirement. Professor Snape looked as though he had suspicions of his own, in fact.

["I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.] p301 Harry felt he should follow, and thanked whatever deity that was listening that he'd brought his Invisibility Cloak. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to hear much.

["...can't afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled -"

"I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?"

"I hope you are telling the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it."

"Who suspects me?" said Malfoy angrily. "For the last time, I didn't do it, ok? That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about – don't look at me like that! I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work – I can stop you!"

There was a pause and then Snape said quietly, "Ah... Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"] p302

That made Draco want to laugh. His _real_ Master knew everything – he was the only one who could break Draco's Occlumency sheilds. Of course, Snape wasn't wrong. Aunt Bella _had_ taught him to block his thoughts, and he did have many secrets to hide. But Snape wasn't a member of the Rebellion. It was from Snape and many others that his secrets were kept; not his Master.

The argument continued for some time before Draco stormed out, but he couldn't help a smirk later whilst reflecting on it. After all, he'd said something that Snape really should have heeded, but never would:

["They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!"] p303

How true it was...

In St. Mungo's, Katie Bell sent out her thoughts to all those in the hospital. Their minds were a confusing mix of pain and drugs, but secrets could be heard. It was a Healer, working late, who particularly caught her attention tonight. His mind was crystal clear, focused – he knew something, and would tell Dumbledore. Unfortunately, Katie was born of Avalon; her thoughts were stronger than most.

His body was found the next day – but his mind had been destroyed long before.

**Please let me know what you think, and feel free to ask questions - although I do promise to reveal all of my mysteries bit by bit as I go :) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!**


	7. 7: Christmas

**Despite being an avid reader, this is my first attempt at writing smut, so please give me pointers! It's an area I'd like to be able to improve upon.**

The Christmas Holidays were far more eventful for some people than others. Harry left for the Burrow with Ron and Ginny, grateful for someone to talk to about the conversation between Malfoy and Snape (although he still found it impossible to talk about the strange man and the meeting they'd had). Luna had done everything she was asked to, and was taking a well-deserved break.

But Draco Malfoy was currently pacing up and down the corridor of a small country estate house, scowling at nothing in particular.

"Love, you do realise that you'll get lines that way?" The voice was unexpected, and made Draco jump; it was not, however, unwelcome.

"You said you had business to attend to for the next few days!" Draco's delight was plain in his tone, but his face betrayed little. The man simply smiled at this.

"Don't you mean, 'Master, how may I serve you'?" The words were half-teasing, and managed to provoke a cautious smile from the blushing blonde. Taking pity on him, the tall man pounced, sweeping Draco up into a tight embrace.

"I don't expect to be 'Master' out of the bedroom, you know that. Although it _is_ convenient to have the others believe I consider you to be _their _equal, rather than mine." Tilting Draco's chin up towards him, he swiftly pressed his lips to the younger man's in question. Draco's answering mouth was all the reply needed, but as they broke apart he added another anyway.

"As you wish – Master." The man grinned, but it was more feral than before; terrifying to most, in fact. Draco was used to it – it simply meant they were about to have a lot of fun. He backed down the corridor, keeping his Master in sight, but keeping his eyes downcast. It was enough to feel those blue eyes roving over his body without actually _watching_ the predatory gaze. Draco knew his Master would already be unzipping his pants as he stalked towards him. His back hit the door and he looked up into smouldering eyes. His master placed a hand either side of Draco's head and leaned in so that Draco could feel the warm lips of his lord against his own – each word burned against them:

"Are you going to open that door, or am I going to take you right here?" Draco whimpered and fumbled for the door handle, finally managing to turn it and finding himself flying backwards into the study. His master kept him steady, however, gripping his waist until they were both still.

"Over the desk." The hard oak grain was already marred by Draco's previous attempts to dig his nails deep into the wood – the desk was one of his master's favourite places to fuck. Draco obediently bent forward over it, his arse presented to his lord for the taking. He braced himself as best he could against the hard wood, trying to prepare himself for what was coming. The man simply smiled to himself at this. Swiftly, he ripped open Draco's slacks, grinning at the bare flesh before him – his love had forgone underwear. Draco choked back a sob as his lover kneaded the rounded mounds beneath him.

"You're going to feel this for weeks, Princess," the man whispered, pressing a knuckle against the tight hole before him. Draco could only moan at this – he knew words would be futile. This wouldn't be a punishment, those were far more brutal. But his Master never let him forget just how close they could be. He braced himself, praying he wouldn't cry out.

The penetration was swift. A quick lubrication charm followed by a deep thrust. The pain was inevitable, and Draco could not restrain a small gasp at the burn within him. Luckily, his master knew the lithe body he held well; he found his mark in moments, and Draco whimpered with increasing volume as his master pounded into him. Each thrust was deep, and Draco wanted to cry in frustration at the pace – for all his brutality, for all the delicious pain, his master was certainly taking his time.

"Was there something you wanted, sweetheart?" Draco groaned at this remark. Master did like to make him beg.

"Please Master, faster, please, I need more," he gasped, as each thrust began to increase in pace.

"You needy whore." His Master muttered, but Draco didn't care – he was too far gone. As his Master furiously slammed into Draco's tight passage with enough force to move the heavy desk, Draco could only gasp and moan as writhed beneath his lord. He hadn't been so thoroughly fucked in days. A warm hand reached down, gripping Draco's cock and pumping it mercilessly.

"Master, I-"

"Go on then, bitch. Come for me." With permission granted, Draco screamed his pleasure into the lacquered oak, his seed painting the side panel. Sensing that his Master wouldn't be much longer, Draco clamped down tightly onto the shaft within him.

"Oh, you _cunt_!" His Master gasped, as he pounded his orgasm into his beautiful blond.

Finished, he stepped back and zipped up his black jeans. Draco could feel the scowl directed at his back, but he knew he'd be forgiven. Master never stayed mad for long.

"Do that again, and you'll _never_ forget it. I wasn't done with you yet." The pout in the last comment was evident, and Draco allowed himself a grin as he slowly pushed himself up off the desk.

He'd definitely be forgiven.

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Returning to school was the ultimate anti-climax to an eventful break for Draco Malfoy. Plotting, secret meetings, incredible sex – all traded for the usual boring lessons and the tedium of acting as though he cared about any of it. Everyone seemed to have had a good holiday, and Pansy insisted on recounting every detail of her time in Barcelona. Blaise was a bit sullen, but even he responded positively to questions about his visit to relatives in Venice. Draco of course had to lie through his teeth, saying he'd been ensconced in his room in Wiltshire for most of the break. The only bright spot was the notice he spotted in the common-room.

[_APPARITION LESSONS_

_If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before 31__st__ August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor._

_Please sign below if you would like to participate._

_Cost: 12 Galleons._] p331

Naturally, Master had already taught him to Apparate – but it would be fun to watch Potter and co. try it out...

**Let me know what you think! Comments _very_ much appreciated. Thanks! :)**


	8. 8: Enlisted

**It was getting hard to write about the stranger without giving him a name, so I've given a made-up one. Draco calls him by his real name, so that is why he won't be calling him anything except 'Master' for a while.**

**Also, I needed to get Harry involved. He's been too out of the loop...**

He couldn't sleep. The bed was as comfortable as ever, but right now it seemed to Harry that even if some things don't change, others inevitably do. Ron and Hermione were still furious with each other, and only spoke in taunts. Of course, there were plenty of other things to be worrying about, more serious ones; Voldemort was getting stronger, gathering more followers. And then there was the man to consider. Hell, Harry was certain that there was something he needed to know there. Although nothing had really happened, Harry knew it was only a matter of time. He still hadn't said anything to his friends or even his teachers, keeping his concerns to himself. Sure, Malfoy had been behaving oddly, but these days Harry couldn't even begin to guess whether this was because of the stranger, Voldemort, or both. This man was a new threat, yet Harry found himself strangely drawn to him. Shaking his head, Harry Potter gave up on sleep and set off for a walk in the grounds. Maybe the fresh air would help.

He noticed very little as he paced back and forth across the Quidditch pitch. The grass swished beneath his feet, but otherwise Harry was surrounded by silence and stillness. Unfortunately, this meant that the thoughts he was unable to be rid of were free to race through his mind, going round in circles and making him dizzy.

"Pleasant evening, isn't it?" Harry nearly leapt out of his skin – the dark figure now stalking towards him was all too familiar from his dreams, and Harry hoped his thoughts hadn't been too easy to read; he wouldn't put anything past this stranger.

"You know, I don't bite – not unless I'm provoked, anyway." The man smiled at Harry's evident unease, making his face seem just as striking as Harry had remembered. Harry gulped.

"Um, why are you here?" At least it was a more logical question than what he'd been thinking of asking. Harry found himself sincerely hoping the man wasn't an acomplished Legilimens.

"Actually, I was wondering if we could talk?" The man was close enough to be towering over him, and Harry found himself sinking to the ground, indicating that his companion was welcome to follow suit.

Once they were both comfortable, the man turned to Harry, holding out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Jack." Harry couldn't suppress a half-shocked laugh at the seemingly casual tone.

"Really? You know, I actually doubt that it is." The man simply smiled indulgently.

"You're right to doubt. But at least this way you have something to call me, correct? Jack isn't entirely creative, I'll admit. For our purposes however, it doesn't have to be." This sobered Harry up. He was insantly reminded of why he had been pacing the pitch in the first place, and once again realised he had a million questions. Firstly, what the hell was going on. Jack laughed at this.

"No-one really knows what's happening. Personally, I'm trying to ensure that our world isn't thrown into a place of extreme prejudice." Harry looked blank at this, but Jack was happy to elaborate. It was vital to ensnare Potter, and this was the perfect way of doing so. "Harry, if Voldemort comes into power, Muggleborns and Muggles will face persecution. But if the Order wins, it will be purebloods and our current aristocracy that will be persecuted."

"But Ron's a pureblood! His entire family is with the Order!" Jack smiled ruefully.

"It will all be perception. Do you think all Death Eaters are purebloods? Of course not. But that is how they are percieved, just as the Order is seen as being mixed blood or Muggleborn." As Harry considered this he had to admit that it rang true. The Death Eaters couldn't _all_ be pureblood – there simply weren't enough purebloods in Britain. Yet that was indeed the perception. "Harry, I want to maintain our aristocracy, keep our ancient magical orders and traditions. Yet I believe we need to encompass new ideas, accept that mixing blood is necessary, etc. I'm not asking your sanction – we will continue to act regardless. But there is something I might need your help with, involving Ron Weasley." Harry leaned away from him in shock.

"Ron?! What do you mean?"

"Just act as though you believe his actions are true to character, even if you're unsure. Can you do that?" Harry could only nod as Jack picked himself up and strode off.

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"He beat me in bloody Potions _without doing any work_!" Jack continued studying his nails as his lover ranted on about the day's apparently abysmal lesson. Really, now was not the time.

"Please stop being childish. Personally, I'm happy he's agreed to co-operate. A little bit at a time, remember?" Draco stopped pacing the Room of Requirement abruptly in order to study the man stretched out across the black leather sofa. He looked divine, but Draco was in no mood to admit it.

"Yes, of course. Gain his trust, give him small innocent jobs, eventually make him our slave. I suppose you'll even marry him off or something?" Obviously frustrated with Draco's mood, Jack nevertheless tried to maintain a calm tone.

"Yes, actually. But not yet. Now come here." Noting the underlying anger to the command, Draco didn't dare refuse. He quickly moved toward the couch, and Jack pulled him down so that Draco straddled his waist.

"Since you're here – entertain me." Draco couldn't resist a freal grin. This was his favourite part of the evening.

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"Look, I know what I'm doing. Just do as I tell you and there won't be any problems! I mean, is it really so bloody difficult for you to trust someone you've bloody shared a dorm with for the past five years? I just need you to keep an eye on-"

["Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall.

Everybody looked round. Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument.] p358

**Yes, the ending is there for a reason. Who does Crabbe have to watch that he doesn't want to? Stay tuned (lol) :)**


	9. 9: Secrets

**Sorry this is late - I got some unexpected holiday work. In penance, I have given you some smut :)**

**Of course, I've also given you a few things to ponder...**

Harry [managed to position himself right at the back of the crowd, directly behind Malfoy, who was taking advantage of the general upheaval to continue his argument with Crabbe, standing five feet away and looking mutinous.

"I don't know how much longer, alright?" Malfoy shot at him, oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."

Crabbe opened his mouth, but Malfoy appeared to second-guess what he was going to say.

"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told] p359 and keep an eye on him."

"And who exactly are you spying on now Malfoy, hm?" Harry asked. Malfoy spun around angrily, but before he could reply [the four Heads of House shouted, 'Quiet!' and silence fell again. Malfoy turned slowly to face the front.] p360

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"Honestly, apart from Potter being nosy, the most exciting thing to happen was Susan Bones splinching herself. It's not as if you'll let me Apparate, I had to think about other things to keep from doing it accidentally!" Jack stretched out on the fur rug in front of the fire, listening to Draco's chatter. It wasn't that he minded it, really. But he'd had a particularly tiring day.

"Draco, you do realise I'm naked, right?" Draco's pirouette was almost comical, he nearly over-balanced turning to look at his lover. Clearly, he'd been to self-absorbed to notice before.

"Oh." It seemed as if Draco's usually extensive vocabulary had departed at the sight of Jack, clearly very naked and just as clearly aroused. Draco sank down beside him.

"I suppose you'd like a hand with that? You know, I didn't have dessert..." A sly smirk crossed Jack's face at the blond's implication. Those perfect pink lips were awfully tempting.

"You know, sweetheart, I think we can probably help each other out." Draco smiled, and slowly removed his school tie before binding his lover's hands together. Jack let him – he _did_ have a tendency to pull Draco's precious hair if he wasn't careful. Draco's shirt and trousers were quickly disposed of, and he slid down the soft fur to position himself above Jack. He smiled shyly.

"Devoured or appreciated, Master?"

"Appreciated, I think. It's been a long day." Draco slowly slid his hands down Jack's sides, enjoying the soft skin and small shivers as a result. Gently holding both sides of his Master's hips, he nuzzled his face into the hard crease leading from Jack's torso to his cock, eliciting a quiet groan. This was clearly exactly what was required – gentle and languid. He moved back to run his tongue from base to tip, before continuing his firm licks around the entire shaft until Jack was completely slicked up and moaning. As Draco finally took the head into his mouth his Master gasped and bucked his hips slightly, making Draco glad of his firm grip on Jacks hips. It was easier to be gentle if he had complete control (which admittedly his Master didn't often give him). As his Master began to writhe in pleasure Draco took Jack's cock deeper into his mouth as slowly as possible. It was an ecruciating pace for both of them; Jack was clearly close, but even Draco wanted to have his mouth brutally fucked, to devour every inch of his Master's cock. His own was already leaking, and he couldn't resist rubbing against the fur rug in time with his bobbing head.

"Alright, I give. Needy cunt." Abruptly, Jack wrenched his hands apart, despite Draco's tie, and hauled the blond up by his hair so that Draco straddled him. "Impale yourself, bitch." Draco swallowed; he couldn't resist such a command, even though he knew he'd regret the lack of preparation in the morning. He lifted himself up, his Master positioning his own cock beneath him. Draco slammed down onto it, taking every inch inside himself in one thrust and and nearly sobbing at the intrusion. God, it felt good. He began to ride his Master, barely hearing the resultant groans and gasps in his own ecstacy. Warm hands found his waist, lifting and pulling to help Draco keep his pace, and it wasn't long before Draco heard himself keening as his release shuudered through his body. He kept his pace though; his Master wasn't far behind him, and as he finished he pulled Draco down to bite into his shoulder, silencing his own cries of pleasure. After a significant pause, he released the blond and sat up with Draco still in his lap.

"Well, aren't you glad you missed dessert?" Draco could only grin.

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"_Generals, we have begun to ensnare Harry Potter. Clearly, this is a win. Hopefully, we will be in a position to act before the end of the year._

_Draco, the Links have passed through the knowledge that Potter has a map that shows the positions of everyone within Hogwarts – the Room of Requirement will not show, but be careful where you go, as he is apparently determined to keep an eye on you._

_Remember your tasks over the next few weeks, try to be vigilant. We can't afford to slacken off._

_As for the Links – we should have the Hogwarts Node established shortly. In the meantime, continue to contact me with any vital information._

_Thank-you."_

_The Leader of the Revolutionaries, in a private meeting at Headquarters, at the beginning of the Great War._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Ron Weasley lay in bed, staring at the crimson roof created by the curtains of his four-post bed. If you only glanced at him, he appeared bored stiff. But Ron Weasley was in a trance – and this secret ability was one kept close to his heart – Ron was, in fact, of the Order of Camelot.

And he was communing with his leader.

**Yes, I went there with the Camelot/Avalon thing. They will be kind of like religious groups with special powers - they were referred to by 'Jack' in the last chapter as "magical orders". They will be explained in detail as I go on.**

**Please, review and let me know what you think! Reviews keep me going. Many thanks to those of you who have been after almost every chapter! Your encouragement is greatly appreciated.**


	10. 10: 23 Revealed

**I know, this took too long! But I'm starting the next chapter _right now_, so never fear.**

**Sorry this is a bit choppy, but I needed the different POVs to come through.**

_Dear JP,_

_Agent 23 momentarily out of the picture. Should be fixed soon however, so don't fret._

_DM._

Jack scowled at the parchment as if it had done him a great injustice, and stormed angrily from Headquarters to the Hog's Head – he needed a drink.

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Ron Weasley was not happy. It was bad enough that he'd ingested a love potion past its best – but he'd been positively yelled at by his leader afterwards. It had been bloody lucky Harry had figured out what had happened. He had come to in Slughorn's office thoroughly disgusted with himself.

["Pick-me-up, that's what he needs," Slughorn continued, now bustling over to a table loaded with drinks. "I've got Butterbeer, I've got wine, I've got one last bottle of this oak-matured mead... hmm... meant to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas... ah well..." he shrugged.] p371

Something inside Ron's head clicked. This was what he had been waiting for – he'd been told to intercept a drink 'meant for Dumbledore' from Slughorn! It seemed Ron's luck was changing. He could only hope he didn't freak Harry out too much. This was going to take some brilliant acting on his part.

["... he can't miss what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr Weasley's birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love..."

He chortled again and Harry joined in. This was the first time he had found himself almost alone with Slughorn since his disastrous first attempt to extract the true memory from him. Perhaps, if he could just keep Slughorn in a good mood... perhaps if they got through enough of the oak-matured mead...

"There you are, then," said Slughorn, handing Harry and Ron a glass of mead each, before raising his own. "Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph -"

"- Ron -" whispered Harry.

But Ron, who did not appear to be listening to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.] p372 'Here goes nothing,' thought Ron, as he began his deception.

[There was a second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which Harry knew there was something terribly wrong and Slighorn, it seemed, did not.

"- and may you have many more -"

"_Ron!_"

Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his chair and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets.] p372

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Ron was rather irritated. He'd been trying for 'incapacitated for some time', but unfortunately Harry had thrown a bloody bezoar down his throat. Obviously, he had to pretend to get better after that. However, he had been able to 'sleep' enough to catch up on what he had missed over the Link, so it hadn't been a complete waste.

Of course, it was rather lucky that Pomphrey was easily fooled. If Harry had dragged him up here thinking that he was helping and the nurse was _smart_, he would've had a problem. As it was, everything could be salvaged.

The Lord General was pretty pissed off though. Ron could actually _feel_ his anger as they connected their minds. It wasn't fun.

'What happened?! Everything was going perfectly! 26 needs _back-up_, 23! And how the hell did you end up taking over-due love potion?'

'Uh, well, it was meant for Harry – he didn't throw it out I guess, I mean -'

'For fuck's sake. Clearly, we're going to have to get someone else to do this.' Ron didn't trust himself to contribute any further. The Master slammed out of Ron's mind with force, reminding him of someone slamming a door. Except, slamming doors didn't give anyone a headache.

On the plus side, it made his pain that more real when he 'woke up' to face his family and friends in the Hospital Wing.

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"Bloody Potter!" The glass shattered instantly upon impact with the wall. Draco couldn't conceal a wince – he was standing less than 10cm from it. Actually, he was quite surprised by the current situation. His Master rarely got this upset, so there had to be something going on here that he was missing. Draco was intelligent; this was about more than Potter 'saving' Weasley.

"Master? Maybe -"

"Come here. _Now_." The order was not entirely unexpected, but Draco was wary. Master could be vicious when he was calmer than this, so what would he be like now? But his hesitance only served to anger Jack further.

He reached out and began tearing Draco's uniform from his body. In moments, Draco's shirt was in tatters, his trousers in half, and every other item flung out around the room. Draco stayed very still – now was definitely _not_ the time for sudden moves. In fact, when his Master stepped back he was worried. There was concern in his eyes, and it was so unexpected that Draco didn't know what to say. So he stood, mute, and waited.

"I scared you." It was barely a whisper, but Draco felt his eyes tear up in response. Master had never sounded so dejected.

"No, not really. I'm fine. But I thought you were going to fuck me?" He smiled, trying to make a joke of it, but Jack couldn't smile back. Instead he stretched out his arms, and Draco stepped into them gratefully. He nuzzled into the crook of his lover's neck, smiling softly.

"Do you want me to? Is that all we are?" The calm tone was quiet but shattering, and Draco could have hit him for it.

"No, of course not. I love you." Jack smiled and held him tighter.

"I love you too."

**Please review, they feed my write-ability! Next one should come soon, promise! :)**


	11. 11: Hufflepuff vs Griffindor

**I know, I'm sorry, I keep getting stuck! Writer's block sucks. But, I have included some yummy smutt for you all, so please don't kill me.**

Lavender Brown was pissed off. How was she supposed to talk to Harry if bloody McLaggen kept showing up? It was bad enough that Harry barely talked back to her, but she _knew_ he was trying to avoid McLaggen as well. Ron was going to be annoyed about all this, she just _knew_ it...

["Speaking of getting shot of people," Harry added, getting to his feet and picking up his Firebolt, "will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She's driving me mad as well."

"Oh," said Ron, looking sheepish. "Yeah. All right."] p385 Bugger. So that was what Lavender had told him – he'd told her she needed a good reason to bug Harry, so she was using their relationship? This was not going to plan! Why he had to take on an Initiate at this stage was beyond him, it really was. Ok, so they needed to make up some numbers, but still, _Lavender_? He'd asked her to keep an eye on Harry for him, and was sorely beginning to regret it. Her reports were filled with comments on the state of Harry's hair, for Merlin's sake! Ron sighed. He would just have to grin and bear it...

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Luna was happy. It had been decided that someone within the Revolutionaries needed to keep an eye on Quidditch matches while Draco was working, and she'd been given permission. She smiled. Professor McGonagall hadn't been happy at all – she took Quidditch far too seriously.

The match itself was going nicely. Ginny and Demelza scored a few goals for Griffindor, although McLaggen was making a nuisance of himself. It didn't seem as though there were going to be any problems. Until McLaggen got hold of a Beater's bat, anyway.

[McLaggen, for reasons best known to himself, had pulled Peakes' bat from him and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger towards an oncoming Cadwallader.

"_Will you give him back his bat and get back to the goalposts!_" roared Harry, pelting towards McLaggen just as McLaggen took a ferocious swipe at the Bludger and miss-hit it.] p389

Harry plummeted towards the ground, the crowd berating (Griffindor) and cheering at (Slytherin) McLaggen for taking out Griffindor's Captain and Seeker. But nothing could be done. Harry was whisked off to the Hospital Wing, and Luna sent a quick covert message to Headquarters explaining the situation.

From then on, the match went drastically down hill. The Griffindor Chasers scored as often as they could, but the outcome was inevitable – the Hufflepuff Seeker caught the snitch, and Griffindor lost terribly; 320-60. It was a dreadful ending to what had started out a promising match. Most of the school looked miserable as they left the pitch, although the Slytherins all seemed pretty happy about it. Luna sighed and flicked her hair behind her ears, descending the stairs and making her way toward the Room of Requirement. Draco would want to know how the game went, and she felt that _someone _aught to get some joy out of all this.

Draco was tired and frustrated, making Luna's news even more welcome.

"'Bout time Potter bloody well got knocked off his broom. You know, this potion would be easier to make if you lent me a hand..." he quirked one eyebrow at her, and Luna sighed. As a superior officer Malfoy could technically order her to do it, but they both knew it wasn't necessary. Luna loved working too much. She bent over the bubbling gloop, stirring and chatting as Draco prepared the ingredients.

It was some time later that they collapsed onto a nearby couch, utterly exhausted. Luna curled up, cat-like, watching her companion as he lay back against the arm and closed his eyes. He really did look quite beautiful, even in his exhaustion, and she watched him silently.

"Lusting after my man, Luna?" The tone was teasing, but the voice itself had her leaping to attention.

"Nothing like that, sir! I just, well..." Jack smiled. He did know, actually; it was so easy to just stare at Draco and think nothing but 'beautiful'. Merlin knew he'd done it enough himself.

"I'm afraid we need a moment alone Luna. If you wouldn't mind?" Luna smiled dreamily and quickly departed, leaving Jack to make himself comfortable on the couch. Draco sank down so that his bare feet rested in his master's lap, and couldn't resist smirking up at him;

"I've been over-worked, you know." The answering grin was feral.

"Hardly. But you will be shortly..." Strong hands began to rub circles into the soles of Draco's feet, causing him to groan quietly relax into the firm leather of the couch beneath him. Jack smirked, and began to continue his assault further up Draco's calves, heading towards his thighs. Draco, seemingly half-asleep, slowly unbuttoned his shirt and threw away his tie; allowing Jack's eyes to feast on the pale flesh as it came into view. Gently, he reached out and divested Draco of his remaining garments – the silk underwear the last to go. Once Draco was completely naked, Jack pulled him up onto his knees.

"Ride me." Draco shivered at the command, and decided to forego any preparation. His Master was clearly not in the mood for fuss. He undid his Master's slacks, straddling his lap. Jack couldn't help grinning at his beautiful blond, willing to do whatever Jack wanted him to. Draco carefully lined himself up, taking in his Master's expression as though it alone could somehow sate him, and rammed himself down onto the wooden cock.

Jack couldn't hold back a gasp of delight as Draco's tight passage constricted around him. Surely there was no better feeling in the world – he knew he wouldn't last long. Draco deliberately rode him hard and fast, rising so that barely the head remained inside before slamming back down in a thoroughly brutal pace that had them both gasping for breath. Draco began to pump his own cock, feeling his release building inside him.

"Come for me, beautiful, come on." Jack whispered hoarsely, panting in time with his thrusts. Draco screamed – his passage tightened in waves, and as his come spurted out onto the black silk shirt his Master bit down on Draco's arm to muffle his own cries of climax. Slowly they settled into each other, remaining in the same position and breathing heavily.

"Now, sweetheart, you're overworked."

**I know, that last line is a bit porn-movie, but I couldn't resist. Please leave a review, let me know what you think - heck, feel free to give me some ideas! Thanks so much to all of you who read this, particularly neverfall16 who almost always reviews - I think I love you for them :)**


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